


Diaries of a Revolution

by the_technicolor_whiscash



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, None of the characters die, Original Character - Freeform, War, and really its war you expect death, but give it a try, death tw, first person POV, i know that'll turn a lot of people away, i think i did well, its just death is mentione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 16:49:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9194147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_technicolor_whiscash/pseuds/the_technicolor_whiscash
Summary: Elise Freeborn is a young woman who lives during the time of the American Revolution. Wanting to aid in the fight for liberty, she dresses as a man and joins the army, soon becoming friends with General Washington. Along her journey though the revolution she meets an intriguing young man who will change her life forever.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Idk this was really fun to write  
> I know it's nothing like my other stuff but I rather like it

I distinctly remember the first day I met him. Well, I didn't meet him, exactly. I saw him from a distance, standing on a rooftop, watching me. He could've been watching someone else, but it really felt like he was looking right at me. I couldn't get a clear shot of his face, since he wore a hood which covered most of his features.  
Oh right. I should probably tell you a little bit about myself. Name’s Elise Freeborn. At least that's what my friends call me. But in the army, they call me Erik.  
It was a revolution! I couldn't just sit back and watch while all of the men in my life ran off to fight for our freedom. So I figure why not live up to my last name and help. I grabbed some of my brother’s clothes, an old family musket, and ran off to join the army. Sure, my mom would be pissed. I was doing the two things she hated most in life: defying her wishes and crossdressing. But I knew what I was doing was right.  
And I was a damn good soldier. Climbed the ranks soon after being accepted, and I eventually gained the attention of some higher-ranking officers, who introduced me to General George Washington. George and I hit it off really well. He's a great guy. It's going to suck when I have to tell him and all of the other guys I've made friends with that I'm not actually a guy.  
The day I met good ol’ G Wash was also the day I first saw Connor. I asked the General about it, but he said not to worry, that the hooded figure on the rooftop was a friend. I, however, found that hard to believe.  
So I spent the next few weeks searching for the mystery man. He was hard to track, given that he preferred to travel by tree, rooftop, or the occasional stolen horse. But I finally managed to find him. He was in Boston, apparently waiting for someone. But I knew it was him from his unmistakable hooded robes.  
“Excuse me.” I asked, standing in front of him and crossing my arms. “Who are you?”  
He looked at me, and for the first time I could see a clear view of his face. His face, which was absolutely gorgeous. When he spoke, his voice was like smooth silk. “I might ask the same of you.”  
I tried to make myself seem taller. The guy looked to be about a foot taller than I was, and dramatically muscular. “Well, I work with General Washington. I've seen you observing our camp from a ways away, on a rooftop.”  
“Yes, I do some work for the General.” He said in his silky voice. “Private work.” He added.  
“I’m El… Erik. Erik Freeborn.” I held out a hand, but instead of shaking it he just sort of looked at it funny. Did I say something wrong? Was there dirt on my face? (Actually I knew the answer to that one. We were living in tents. There was always dirt on my face.)  
“I am Connor.” He said plainly. I could see he was a man who liked to cut right to the chase. Did he have a last name? I supposed that that would come in time.  
“Well, Connor, it's a pleasure to finally meet you.” I said, shoving my hands awkwardly into my pockets. “I've gotta ask, what's with the robes?”  
I could see the hint of a smile cross his face before he returned to his normal expression that I couldn't quite put my finger on. “It is for a society I am a part of.”  
I raised an eyebrow. “Society? Like the Freemasons?”  
“Of sorts.” I could tell he was getting more interested in this conversation. “We’re called the Assassins.”  
“Bit of an odd name, isn't it?” I said, chuckling. But I had heard that name before. The Assassins… why did that ring a bell? Had Washington mentioned it at some point?  
At that moment I realized just how heavily armed Connor was. Guns, arrows, swords, a tomahawk… this guy was a walking weapons encyclopedia. “I have never really thought about it.”  
“So what do you Assassins do that involves you standing on rooftops?” I was genuinely curious. Heck, if it was something fun, I might join.  
The guy looked rather uncomfortable. He probably wasn't used to people inquiring about his life. “We…”  
He was cut off by a man in a green jacket who ran up to Connor. He looked familiar. Had I seen him before?  
“Connor.” The man said, clapping him on the shoulder. Connor quickly moved, shoving the man’s hand off. Huh. Guess he's not the “touchy-feely” type. “We’re going to need your help with something.”  
I raised an eyebrow, looking at the two men. Connor looked to be unhappy at the man’s request, but I couldn't quite tell.  
“What is it, Paul?” Connor asked. Clearly Connor wasn't fond of Paul. Wait a second. Paul who?  
The man named Paul glanced at me before looking back at Connor. “Regulars. They're going to be trying to find Sam and some others.”  
I furrowed my brows. “Wait a second, are you Paul Revere? Master silversmith and notorious for bad handwriting?”  
Paul nodded. “Yes, although I don't think the handwriting thing is that bad. I try my best.”  
I held out my hand. “Erik Freeborn. We met a while back at a Sons of Liberty meeting!”  
“Ah, well it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Paul said, shaking my hand with almost uncomfortable vigour. “Are you and Connor friends?”  
Connor and I looked at each other and then looked back at Paul. “No, in fact we just met like ten minutes ago.”  
Paul raised an eyebrow, but didn't seem fazed. “Well, that's not important. Perhaps you might be able to help us too, Mr. Freeborn.”  
“Really?” I was excited. I had always wanted to play a more important part in this revolution, and now was my chance!  
“Yes!” Paul also sounded excited. He was a rather excitable little man. “Alright, tonight, I need you to bring two lanterns to the steeple of the Old North Church. When I give the signal, you are to light the two lanterns, to signal that the British troops are coming by sea. This job is imperative to our operation. Can you handle this?”  
I nodded. “Yessir!”  
He clapped his hands together. “Excellent!” He turned to Connor. “Now, for you, young man, I have a different job…”  
The two of them began to walk along the street, eventually falling out of earshot. From what I could tell, it seemed like the assassin was going to have a far more entertaining night than I would. But what I was doing was, as Paul said, imperative to the mission.

  
I did what I was asked, and I guess Connor did his job too. I don't know how it ended up, because I haven't seen him since then. Well, I have seen him on rooftops, and occasionally starting riots in the streets. It seems like he's worked up a bit of a following. Word on the street is, he and his little group are taking down all sorts of British leaders, alongside some other questionable individuals. Well, good for them.  
I've never been asked for help from the Sons of Liberty since then, which has been rather disheartening. However, I am becoming more prominent in the military. Washington calls me his “right hand man.” Well, that's not entirely accurate. His right hand man is that little up-and-comer Hamilton. But I have a feeling he's not going to last long. He likes to get into fights. That's going to get him into trouble. He's also been translating for that Marquis de Lafayette, but he keeps translating things wrong, and I think the General is starting to take notice. It's actually kind of funny.  
I've made quite a few friends in the army. I don't know if I'll ever have the heart to tell them that I'm not a guy. I'm sure some have already guessed, but most of them don't know. I don't regret joining the army, though. Although I have regretted it at certain points. Valley Forge was quite a bitch.  
The General is holding a ball for all of the higher-ranking officers and their wives. I might go, although it might get a little awkward. Then again, it might be fun.

  
The ball was hugely grand and extravagant. Women in gorgeous dresses I would kill for, men in fancy coats and military uniforms. Lots of dancing, flirting, and drunken smooching. I, however, kept to the snack table. There was a large amount of food that I was definitely not going to pass up. I shoved a large number of cookies into my coat pockets and hoped that no one would notice.  
“Hello.” I heard a voice say from behind me. Turning around, I realized that it was Connor. Huh. Guess he made it out of whatever Paul had him do alive.  
“Hey! Long time no see.” I said, smiling. I knew not to shake his hand, given his adverse reaction to it last time we met.  
His brow furrowed as he looked me up and down. “May I talk to you in private?”  
“Uh, sure?” I said, raising a brow in confusion. We walked into a room off to the side of the ballroom which had a staircase… and a couple of young people getting it done underneath it. I shooed them away, telling them to get a room. Like really guys. There are better places to have sex. Places with less spiderwebs.  
“Mister Freeborn…” Connor paused, apparently trying to figure out what he was going to say. “There is something… different about you. You are unlike many of the other military men.”  
“Well, uh, I, uh…” I stumbled along, trying to come up with an excuse. None of them would have been appropriate for this situation.  
“You are not a man, are you?” Well, there it is. He knew. Whoomp there it is.  
I hung my head in defeat. “Yeah. I’m not. I knew women wouldn't be accepted into the army, so I dressed as a guy so as to join in the revolution.” I looked up at him. “You can't tell anyone. It would ruin my life.”  
Connor gave me a soft smile. “Do not worry. I will not spill your secret. It is not mine to tell.”  
I nodded and gently put a hand on his arm. Surprisingly, he didn't shake it off. “Thank you.”  
Silently, we returned to the ball together. I still spent most of my time near the snack table, because let's be real here, I'm not not going to eat every single dessert on this table. However, I noticed that throughout the rest of the ball, Connor kept looking back at me. I wonder what that could mean.

  
Battle is not a fun place to be. You're always wondering if you're going to get shot, or blown up, or stabbed with a bayonet. It's terrifying, to be quite honest. But you have to shove your fears down your throat and face death head on if you want to defend your freedoms. And sometimes that can cost you. I've lost so many friends, God only knows how many. It takes a toll on your mind. You fear for the future. You wonder if it was worth it all.  
And then you hear word that your brother was killed in battle, and you go through the five stages of grief all in one day, because the next day you know you're going to have to fight for your life again. And you really start to wonder if it's worth it.  
I laid in bed the night I got the letter and just cried. It was all I could do. The tears streaked through the dirt on my face, and all I could think of was how my parents would feel. First their daughter disappears, then their son dies in service to his country. I figured I should go back.  
Then a thought struck me. I couldn't go back, not now. Not while there was still so much happening, so much going on in the formation of our new nation. And I couldn't let him die in vain. So I decided to stay. I would hold out until the war ended, and then I would go back home and grieve. But who knows how long that war could last.

  
I got a few days of leave, so I decided to hang around in Boston. I had always liked Boston. The sights and the sounds just made me happy. People seemed mostly unaffected by the war. Well, not unaffected. There were still British troops everywhere, but that wasn't important.  
I stopped into a general store to see if they had anything I could buy with what little money I had on hand. They had some knives which I was interested in, and I was considering whether or not to buy one when I heard someone enter the store behind me. And who could it be but Connor.  
“Ah! Mister Kenway! Pleasure to see you back. Here for more ammunition, I assume?” The shopkeeper said cheerily. So Kenway was his last name. I thought I had heard someone mention a Kenway in the past, but he had a funky first name. Must be related.  
Connor nodded. “Yes, and perhaps a few spools of thread. The tailor on the homestead needs more.”  
“Well, I'll see what I have, but it should be no trouble.” The shopkeeper replied. These two apparently knew each other well.  
Connor turned to me. “Hello, Erik. It has been a while.”  
I smiled. “Yeah, it's good to see you're doing alright.”  
“Has something happened?” Connor said, frowning slightly. “You appear to be sad.”  
Man, that guy is perceptive. “Uh, yeah. My brother was killed in battle.”  
“I am sorry.” Connor was the one person who I had met who seemed genuine when he said that. He was a very nice person. A nice person who made my heart leap every time I saw him. Wait a diddly darn minute here. That's not a good sign. Oh no. Am I… no. That's not possible. I can't be in love with him. Can I?  
I quickly pulled myself out of my stupor. “Thanks. We were never really close, but his death… it just sort of hit me out of nowhere.”  
Connor approached the shopkeeper’s counter and glanced at the knives I was looking at. “Death can be painful if it is someone you love.” He picked up one of the knives and felt it in his hand. “Choose this one. It is the most balanced.”  
He handed me the knife and I checked it out. It was a good knife. “Interesting. Then I'll get this one.”  
I paid the shopkeeper and Connor and I both walked out into the bustling streets. The city was always so full of life. It was a nice change from battlefields filled with death and destruction.  
“Have you told anyone about… you know…” Connor said. Ah. Here we go.  
I shook my head. “No. Like I said, it'd ruin me. I'd get kicked out of the army faster than you could shoot a loaded musket.”  
For a moment, he looked as though he was thinking hard about a response. Then, he said, “If you ever do wish to leave the army, you could stay at my homestead. We have a small community, but it is there for anyone who might need a home.”  
I smiled. “Well, thank you. I might take you up on that offer once the war is over. Frankly, I don't know if my parents will take me back after realizing what I've done. My mom might actually kill me.”  
He nodded. “I could take you there now. It is not too far away. We could make it back before your leave is done.”  
I was about to turn him down when I realized that I literally had nothing better to do on my leave. So I said, “Sure, that sounds like fun.”

  
The ride up to the homestead was almost silent other than the sounds of the horses’ hooves. It was very scenic, however, so it didn't really matter. Sure, I love the bustling city, but nature is unparalleled in its beauty. Well, it might be paralleled by Connor. I mean, his face is just on point. Wait, did I just say that? Pretend like you didn't just hear that.  
The homestead was quite nice. There were more people than I had first expected, but it was still a pretty small and tightly-knit community. They seemed to welcome newcomers, and many were happy to meet me and show me around. I became friends with a woman named Myriam, who almost immediately pointed out that I am not in fact a man. She's also incredibly perceptive. But she's nice, once you get to know her. She's got a great sense of humor too. It's no wonder we became fast friends.  
All of the people on the homestead seem to love Connor. I almost started cracking up when I saw him wrangling pigs for a woman named Prudence. The man is the size of a bear, but he just cannot get pigs to do what he wants.  
I spent the night in the small inn which is on the homestead, which is run by a very funny couple. Everyone here is so nice. I’m glad I decided to visit. See, with these people, I feel like I'd be able to tell them that I'm not a guy. Besides, not like any of them are going to tell Washington about it.  
So I did end up telling them all. It's quite the weight off my back honestly. And none of them mind. Those two lumberjacks seemed a little surprised, but other than that it was no big deal. These people are so much better than my mom. It's crazy.  
I have to head back to the army tomorrow. I'm kind of sad honestly. I really like it here.

  
Connor rode with me back to where the army had set up camp. Washington looked glad to see the both of us, Connor especially. I heard some scuttlebutt that Connor had uncovered a conspiracy of people who were trying to kill the General. I guess the assassins do do some good things.  
I haven't heard from him since we got back to camp. I'm honestly a little worried about him. He normally doesn’t go this long without at least appearing on a rooftop once in awhile.  
Then, one day, the General told me something awful. Apparently Connor was to be hanged for attempting to kill General Washington! Connor would never do that. He might've killed his fair share of people, but he'd never kill ol’ Georgie, would he?  
I quickly ran through the streets in a desperate attempt to find the place of the hanging. It wasn't that hard to locate. Hundreds of people were gathered around to see him hang. Some looked as though they were sad about it. But many looked ravenous, wanting to see death.  
That was when I saw him. He had a sack over his head, but his broad shoulders were unmistakable. And who was to hang him, but the one and only Charles Lee.  
Charles Lee was a scumbag in every form of the word. He ogled women of all sorts, dressed in horrid outfits, and somehow always smelled like a horse had decided to take a dump on him. He always seemed to have his own agenda, and that agenda benefited nobody but him. He sucked. And now he was about to hang the man I was beginning to fall hopelessly in love with.  
As the lever was pulled, dropping Connor to his neck, I began to scream. I wasn't thinking clearly. But then I saw something fly past and scrape against the rope, almost slicing it in two. Then, from a different direction, an arrow flew by, slicing the rope, dropping Connor below the platform.  
I ran as fast as I could through the heavy crowd, pushing people to the side as I bolted towards the platform. What had just happened? Was Connor alright? Who broke the rope?  
Most of those questions were answered as I finally reached the back of the platform. I saw Connor dashing after a man in a leather hat, and an old man named Achilles whom I had met on the homestead. Achilles was cheering as Connor took down the man he was pursuing, preventing the man from attacking General Washington.  
The air in the street was still tense as Connor walked back towards me and Achilles. Some of the crowd had gone home, but a large number of people were still standing there, awestruck at what had just occurred.  
“Thank you, Achilles.” Connor said, nodding to the old man. So it was Achilles who helped free Connor from imminent doom. But wait. Who was the other person who helped cut the rope down? The shots came from two different places.  
“The brotherhood couldn't stand to lose you, my boy.” Achilles said, smiling. Clearly Achilles saw Connor as almost a son.  
Connor smiled and nodded. Then, he turned to me. “Erik. I did not know you would be here.”  
I smirked. “I didn't know either. General Washington only told me earlier today that you were to be hanged.”  
“I see.” Connor began to glance around the street. “We should leave. People are going to wonder why I am still alive.”  
Our small group quickly made our way to the nearest inn, to try to conceal our presence. But I noticed that for most of the time we were walking, we were followed by a man in a blue hat who wore a cape. His outfit was extravagant to say the least, but one thing struck me as odd. He looked an awful lot like Connor.

  
As I walked through the streets of Boston one day, I noticed that I heard footsteps behind me. At first I thought nothing of it. And then I realized someone was following me. I quickly pulled out my newest knife and looked around the corner of a building, only to see a group of people nonchalantly standing in the street. But then I noticed that one of them was wearing that mysterious blue hat and cape combo.  
I dashed along the street, hoping to find somewhere I could hide, when the man somehow appeared in front of me. He was tall, with the face of someone who's seen too many fights.  
Trying to avoid him, I muttered, “Sir, would you mind moving out of the way?”  
The man got a curious sort of look on his face. When he spoke, he had an accent that was sort of British, but you could tell that he had spent enough time in the colonies to sort of muddle the accent out. “No, I don't think I shall.”  
I gripped my knife tighter. “Who are you?”  
“I might ask the same of you.” The man said, raising an eyebrow. “I've noticed you've taken a special… interest in a Mr. Connor Kenway.”  
“What's it to ya?” I said snarkily. Who did this guy think he was?  
“Well.” The man said, “I’m his father.”  
I frowned. “His father?”  
The man smirked. “Yes, unfortunately. My name is Haytham Kenway. It's a pleasure to meet you.”  
I could tell by his tone that it was definitely not a pleasure. “And what interest do you have in me?”  
“My son appears to have taken an interest in your affairs as well. Now, if you know him, you'll know that he doesn't do that with many people.” I could tell he was building up to something. “I believe my son may be… infatuated with you.”  
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. Well, it wasn't actually my hair. It was a powdered wig. But that's unimportant. I still ran my hand through it. “You see, Mr. Kenway, there may be a small misunderstanding going on here.”  
Haytham frowned. “A misunderstanding? What do you mean?”  
I quickly tried to come up with any excuse that could get me out of this situation. I was running out of options. “Sir, I barely know you son. It's very unlikely that he's infatuated with me.” Besides. I thought to myself, a man like Connor would never like me. It's just out of the question.  
Then, he said something which hit me like a carriage hits a dead chicken. “I know you're not a man. It's quite obvious to someone with a trained eye. But that is not my problem with you.”  
“Oh? Then what is your problem with me?” This situation was getting more undesirable by the second.  
“I barely know you. How will I know if you're good enough for my son?”  
I frowned. “What?”  
Haytham got the hint of a smile on his face. “I am his father. I must judge the character of the girls whom he may be interested in.”  
“Mr. Kenway, I assure you. Connor is definitely not interested in me. He’s far too busy with his work.”  
“Hmmm…” the man raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see.”  
Before I could reply, the man had disappeared. Like literally disappeared. I searched the streets nearby, and he was completely gone. How the hell did he do that? Why the hell did he do that? And more importantly, why does he think Connor is in love with me?

  
I didn't see Connor again for a long time. Too long, in my opinion. I found myself longing to see his kind face, to hear his smooth voice. Is this what being in love is like? I've never experienced it before so I wouldn't know. I could be doing this all wrong. Or I could be doing it perfectly. Frankly I have no idea.  
Eventually we ran into each other again. I was on a horse, delivering a message from General Washington, when I saw his form on a rooftop. It was dark, and I could only really see his silhouette, but it was definitely him. I quickly rode off in his direction, anxious to talk with him again.  
He saw me as I approached, and climbed down the building he had been standing on. Man, that dude could move like a panther. He scaled the building in no time at all, and soon I found myself facing him once again.  
“Connor! How lovely to see you again.” I said cheerily. But Connor didn't exactly look happy. He looked almost pained.  
“Hello, Erik. It is nice to see you too.” He tried to smile, but instead grimaced in pain.  
“Connor, is something wrong?” I asked. As I looked him up and down, I noticed that he looked pretty beat up.  
He shook his head. “No, I am fine. Just bruised.”  
I could see blood seeping through his coat. “Connor, you're not fine. Come on, we need to take you to see a doctor right away.”  
He shook his head again. “No. I will be fine.”  
I grabbed him by the shoulder and looked him in the eye. “You are getting on my horse and we are going to see a doctor. Right now.”  
He looked as though he wanted to object, but he decided against it. Instead, he got on the back of my horse and we headed off to see a doctor.

  
Connor recovered quickly from his injury. It was only a small gash, and the man recovers from his injuries faster than anyone I've ever seen. He's like a superhuman. Tall, muscular, attractive, and could probably beat the entire British army in a fistfight.  
Within a week or two he was back in the field, and so I didn't see him for another long period of time. It was almost harder this time. Part of me feels like I should tell him how I feel, while another part of me tells me not to. Heck, he could die any day. Who knows what he faces in his daily life. But I couldn't take my mind off of him. And eventually I'll just have to face the facts that I can't live without him.  
The war was winding down. Fewer battles were occurring, and fewer lives were being lost. But it was still going on, and these last few months of war are always crucial. If you slip up, you might accidentally ruin an impending victory. And if we ruined that now, the colonies, no, the states would face no chance of becoming truly independent.  
I finally saw him again after a grueling battle. I had been cleaning out my musket when he approached me at camp. He had changed his hairstyle, but he was still the same old Connor. Same old man who made my heart race.  
“Erik. Do you mind if we talked? In private?” Connor seemed to be stumbling through his words. This wasn't like him at all. Something must really be on his mind.  
“Sure, yeah.” I stood up and lead him towards a nice secluded rock face. It gave a lovely view of a river, and was out of the way of the camp. I knew a number of soldiers who liked to come back here and meet with their girlfriends for a little time alone (if ya know what I mean).  
Connor appeared to be almost anxious. I had never seen him show so much emotion. It worried me. What could be causing him so much distress?  
“What is it, Connor? I can see that you're bothered by something.” I said, trying to get him to spit out whatever was on his mind.  
“Well… I… um…” He paused. “What is you real name?”  
I raised an eyebrow. That couldn't have been the thing bugging him so much. But this was a sort of important issue. “Elise.”  
He gave a sort of half-smile. “That is a lovely name.”  
I felt myself blushing. “Thank you.”  
He took a deep breath. “There is one more thing I would like to tell you. I have been denying it for some time, but I can no longer deny it.”  
My stomach began to do that weird thing it does when you really want to make out with someone. Is that the feeling they call butterflies in your stomach? It doesn't feel like butterflies. It kind of feels like you want to throw up. Whoever came up with the phrase clearly did not know what butterflies do.  
“Er-uh, Elise, I have… feelings towards you. I do not understand them, but from what I have gathered, it is love.” He began to turn bright red. What an adorable man. “If you do not share these feelings, I understand, and I will respect you, but I felt as though you ought to know.”  
I smiled widely. “I do share those feelings, Connor. I love you too.”  
He sighed happily. “Good. I am glad.” He paused. “Do you mind if I kiss you?”  
Good lord this man was sweet. I gently put my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to me. “Be my guest.”

**Author's Note:**

> Was this good? Frankly it was an excuse to talk about Connor Kenway.


End file.
